


futures

by Nyxierose



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:18:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5395547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxierose/pseuds/Nyxierose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes him a year, but eventually he finds the right words to say back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	futures

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by @bynightafangirl on tumblr: "If you have finished watching the show, Luke heard everything Jessica said in "AKA Smile" He lets her know eventually."

He doesn’t remember a whole lot at first. He remembers basically asking Jess to shoot him - and how his life hit the point where that’s one of the less disturbing things that’s happened to him lately, he’s not sure he wants to figure out - and he remembers waking up in her bed with an unfamiliar woman side-eyeing him and there’s really not a whole lot in between. It’s only after a few weeks have passed, after things even out and he starts to anchor again, that the flashbacks start happening.

 _Her, lying down next to him, almost covering him. Her, body almost shaking, strong fearless woman coming apart. Her, saying things that people like her never say, very_ specific _things, nearly crying as she kisses his cheek._

_“I would’ve liked that future.”  
_

Fuck.

At first, Luke convinces himself it’s just a weird dream. There are several days of his life that he wasn’t really mentally there for, and it’s completely plausible that his brain pieced together an ideal scenario for what happened during the blank time. Except that it  _isn’t_  an ideal scenario. The person he knows, the person he almost almost loves, would not say or do those things under normal circumstances. He admires her fire, her stubbornness, not… not open wounds, not  _that_.

She wouldn’t talk sweet unless she was genuinely convinced she was going to die, and that in turn is what convinces him it was real. It was real, and he was never meant to hear it but he did and now he can’t forget it. Weeks turn to months and he can’t shake those moments that weren’t truly his, can’t shake the fear of what might’ve happened and the hope of what still  _could_.

She’s still alive. He knows that, at least. She’s still alive and still out there and, if the vague articles he reads every so often are any indication, trying to be a hero again. He can’t help the vague rush of pride whenever that happens, even though he’s not vain enough to think he had anything to do with her transformation. No, she’s doing this for  _her_  and it’s glorious, from his distance half a city away it’s glorious.

_“I would’ve liked that future.”_

He waits until it hurts, waits until it’s been almost a year of forced distant pining before he shows up at her door. He knows, in the deepest part of his heart, that she would’ve closed the distance between them months ago if she’d been so inclined. He’s kept himself findable enough, almost wanted her to, but she hasn’t. A better person might keep that coldness forever, but Luke’s still human and the lack of closure is starting to eat him and what the hell. Worst she can do is slam the door in his face, right?

He almost hopes Jess won’t be home at all, but the door’s partially open and he can hear a feminine voice humming along to music. He knocks anyways, waits patiently, waits-

“Hey.”

She appears out of nowhere, an absolute vision, bright blue t-shirt and hair pulled back and a presence to her that almost amazes him. Her lips curve into a half-smile as she processes him, and she takes a step back and pushes the door open a little more and maybe this wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.

“I remember.”

“Shit.” And there’s the woman he loves, rolling her eyes and bracing for hell. Not today, he wants to reassure her, not today.

“What you said to me when I was unconscious. I can’t shake that.”

“ _Shit_ ,” she mutters. “The one thing about that week I don’t have nightmares about and-”

“Not a bad thing.” He reaches for her hand, slowly runs his fingers over her skin. “I wanted that too. I _want_  that.”

“After everything?”

“Yeah.” And alright, it’s been a year and maybe that was too long to wait for her but a year’s got nothing on forever. He’s not entirely sure he  _can_  die, and he’s pretty sure she’s just as indestructible in her own sort of way. They’ve got time. They’ve got so much time.

“I wanted to find you,” she says after a few tense moments. “I wanted to but I was scared. I mean, I nearly killed you and-”

“I don’t fault you, Jess.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not gonna help me sleep,” she hisses. Another few breaths, still so tense. “You’re too good for me and that’s the goddamned problem because it doesn’t stop me wanting you. It doesn’t take away the little flicker of hope I had, the same one I felt the day I saw you, that maybe… maybe you can get over how broken I am. Maybe, if the sex is good enough or you’re just  _desperate_  enough or-”

“I love you.”

She stares blankly at him for a few moments and he worries he’s done something wrong, and then suddenly his arms are full of crying woman and he’s almost  _definitely_  done something wrong. She wants to be held and so he holds her, strokes her back and keeps still and waits it out and worries because apparently that’s his default emotion around her. Worry, pride, and hope. Hell of a combination.

“You mean that?” she asks when she comes down, breathless and red-eyed and the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“I don’t lie to people about things that matter,” he replies. “I love you, Jessica. Just took me a year to say it back.”

She shifts position and kisses him, hesitant but pushing to see how far he’ll let her go. Mouths open, sucking his bottom lip between her teeth and playfully biting down, and he feels her smiling and this is good. Good as her hips shift against his, good as they spin around until his back’s against a convenient wall, purest sweetest wonderful thing.

“Where do we go from here?” he asks when they come up for air. There’s an obvious direction of course, but he doesn’t dare ask for anything so forward and-

“I don’t want to fuck you tonight, Luke. I  _do_  want to fuck you, but… not right now. Bad time of month. But you can stay if you want. Cuddling would be nice?”

He’ll take that, he thinks as they lie down on her bed and find a comfortable position. The last time they were like this, her curled around him all innocent, he was almost dead and she spoke of futures she never thought they’d have. Tonight, he kisses her forehead and murmurs three little words until she’s fast asleep.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”


End file.
